Jack Barton, The Ranger's Apprentice
by FireRanger101
Summary: An abused boy is brought to a seemingly medieval world. In it, there is a group of people known as rangers. He becomes an apprentice to one of them and learns what it is like to be a part of a family. I rated it T, just in case.
1. Chapter 1 Memories

**Hello and welcome all to my story! I am new at writing, so if there are any mistakes please be so kind as to point them out to me. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or Avengers**

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Jack could not wait until his uncle got here. He was the only one who truly seemed like family. He was also the only person in Jack's life that treated him like a human being.

But, that didn't really count for that much. When he thought about it, the only person he did know besides Uncle Clint was dad.

He wasn't allowed to call him that though. No, to _him_ he was just the little boy that lived in the same apartment he does that cleans everything for him. The kid, who was now eleven years old, that had learned to stay a good distance from him because he had started to become a serious drunk.

Jack didn't know why his own father seemed to hate him and want him to never exist, until a little while ago when he eaves dropped on a conversation.

Two months ago Uncle Clint had come to visit. After a long day of him and his nephew watching Robin Hood movies that he had brought over him, he tucked Jack into his small, rickety bed. Then he had gone to _his _room to "Discuss something that was on his mind."

The boy's curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he gracefully scrambled out of bed and went over to the wall that separated his and that man's room. He pressed his ear against it and waited.

At first he could only make out the sounds of their arguing voices. Then, it was as if something had snapped in his uncle because his speaking rose to a much higher volume that he could make out.

"WHEN WILL IT GET THROUGH YOUR HEAD MARCUS!" Uncle Clint shouted at the top of his lungs. "I don't care that you think he is the reason that Ellis is dead!"

_Who is Ellis?_ Jack thought to himself. It sounded like a familiar name. Maybe it was the name of an aunt or-

All at once, he felt numb when he remembered who that name belonged to. _Ellis_. Ellis Barton. That was the name of his own mother. The person, who he was told by Uncle Clint, had died in a car crash on the way home from the hospital on the day he was born.

Dad never talked about her. A few years back Jack had gotten enough courage to ask him about her, but he had immediately regretted it. His dad's eyes seemed to get the same foggy look as they did after he drank heavily, but there was something about them this time that warned Jack of danger.

The man had shot straight up from the couch and started scolding Jack for asking such a thing and talking to him. Jack had than preceded to run straight to his room and shut the door. Than he hid under his quilt in fear.

After that, Jack never asked anything about her, not even to his uncle. He was worried that if he did ask, it would get to his father's ears and he would be punished. He wondered what Uncle Clint had meant when he said "You think he is the reason that Ellis is dead?"

He realized he might be able to get the answer when he remembered the conversation that was happening right beside him, so he quickly put his ear back to its position on the wall.

"Marcus, that kid is your son!" Clint ranted, "When will I be able to get the fact that it was her-

…

…

He felt dizzy. He couldn't hear anything and black dots were starting to cloud his vision. Well, he got an answer to one of his many questions.

His father despised him because somehow, it was _his fault_ his own mother was dead. The reason why he was always either treated like garbage or nothing at all for every day of his life.

He just sat there next to the wall. He felt empty. After a minute, it seemed as if there was a pile of rocks stuck in his stomach that was weighing him down and giving him a horrid feeling inside.

He ever so slowly stood up. His legs felt like they were made out of led. He trudged over to his bed and collapsed on top of the old mattress. He pulled the itchy quilt that was his only blanket up and over himself.

Underneath the shield he had created for himself was a miserable sight. The young boy was clutching onto his pillow as if it was for dear life. In truth, that was what it really felt like to him.

Jack felt like he had cracked and was starting to fade away. The pillow seemed like the only link he had to life at that moment. The entire time that he was desperately clutching on, he stuffed his face into that pillow in an attempt to stifle the sobs that were coming out of him. After all, he didn't want to make _him_ angry with loud noises.

"BOY, ANSWER THE DOOR!"

Jack snapped out of that memory when he heard his father's harsh yell that was directed at him. Then after a second of processing what he had been told, he excitedly sprinted over to the door. He was so glad his uncle was there, he could probably keep his mind off of that day.

He stood on his tip-toes to look through the peephole. He saw his uncle's spiky dark brown hair and he had a smirk on his face, as if he knew Jack was looking at him.

Jack laughed at himself on the inside. Of course he knew. He was the most observant person in the world! Why else would he be called Hawkeye at work?

He unlocked the door and swung it open. These were the days he craved. The reason why he wanted to continue living. Because of that amazing guy who would take time off from his very important job that he still kept as a secret from Jack. Just to spend time with him and to make sure he was alright. The person that seemed like a real life superhero to Jack.


	2. Chapter 2 Arrival

**Well, here is the second chapter! Man, I got it done fast (Which explains why it's so short!) Anyway, if your wondering how this can possibly be a crossover with Ranger's Apprentice, just be patient. It will happen soon, maybe after a couple more chapters.**

**Disclaimer: **

**Jack: H-hello, miss FireRanger101 does n-not own Avengers or Ranger's Apprentice (Runs and retreats behind Clint)**

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**Clint's POV**

Clint didn't know what to do about his older brother Marcus. He knew he was crazy about Ellis, but to treat his own son like vermin because he unknowingly had something to do with her death?

The archer had decided, ever since his little nephew was born, that he would take care of him. He didn't really have a choice in the matter though. Right before the boy's mother had left them she had asked Clint to protect him, being the agent that he was. Well, more like ordered.

She was one of the people who knew what his _job_ was. But she didn't see him as a hired assassin. No matter how many times he told her that he was dangerous, she never believed him. She would just look at him with an exasperated look that seemed to say "Clint, why are you still trying to tell me that, stop lying to yourself."

The only thing she saw in him was an amazing future uncle to her little boy that would give his life to save his without hesitation if the need ever arose. If she was there too, she wouldn't have let him of course. She would have made sure both members of her family survived.

_Though, she won't be able to now_, he thought wryly to himself.

He walked up the flight of steel stairs that led to his brother's apartment. The place really seemed more like a run-down inn than a hotel. The stairs were located outside of the building and with every step he took, it seemed like they would just totally collapse.

He proceeded to the door of his brother's home on the third floor, and then gave a quick couple of knocks on it. After a few seconds of patiently tapping his foot on the ground like a maniac he knocked again, this time a _little_ louder.

He heard a shout from inside and knew it belonged to Marcus. The man was probably yelling at Jack to open the door for him so he wouldn't have to get his bum off the couch.

He heard some footsteps make there way towards the door and than stopped right beside it. Clint smirked; Jack was probably looking right at him at that moment.

The locks clicked out of place and the door swung open. And there standing in the doorway was his little golden haired nephew with his bright, electric blue eyes smiling at him.

"Hey kid, how have you been?" Clint asked the now-hopping boy. He walked inside, kneeled to Jack's height and gave him a suffocating hug.

"_I-I'm fine, o-or I will be wh-when you stop sq-squeezing me_," Jack managed to choke out over his uncle's shoulder.

He released Jack and got to his feet. Woops, he forgot he had started to increase his workout time. The archer looked the boy over with a perceiving eye.

_He doesn't look too bad this visit; he must have been able to steal some food during night time after I gave him those stealth lessons. _

The only thing that stood out as unhealthy on the kid was his thinness. He used to look worse though, way worse. Clint used to be able to see his ribs through the holes of that black t-shirt he always wears.

Clint being an agent of shield and all wasn't exactly allowed to take time-off from his job. So his visits were usually short and far in-between. It seemed as if every time he came back from a mission, Jack looked even worse than when he had left him the time before.

At first, Jack had been slowly deteriorating into a sack of bones. Clint than had decided that enough was enough and started to train the than nine year old. He taught him how to defend himself with a knife, for just in case his brother ever got seriously drunk and went on a rampage. Than he had shown him how to blend into his surroundings and use every small space to his advantage (There tended to be junk in the apartment that Jack never cleaned up, for just that purpose).

During one of his most recent visits, he had shown the eager-to-learn-how-to-survive-my-day-to-day-challenges boy how to be stealthy. If Clint was able to downright admit it, than he would haves said that Jack was a natural protégé.

It was as if he could bend every shadow to his will, so when he stood completely still, it seemed as if he had just disappeared. He could now walk and run without being heard. To most people that is. Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye could still hear him from a good distance away. But that was just because Clint was trained to detect the smallest noise.

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**Jack's POV**

Man, did Jack hurt. He could definitely tell that Uncle Clint had buffed out his arms. That or he had gotten weaker since the last hug Clint had given him.

"So Uncle Clint, what are we doing today? Do you have any plans? Ooh ooh, did you bring more Robin Hood movies!?" Jack questioned him excitedly. For some reason, he just loooved watching archers. Even though he could tell they were fake in the movies, they were still fascinating to him.

"Oh no, I've got something much bigger planned for today for little nephew," The man replied with a glint in his eye, suggesting that it would be a surprise no matter what Jack tried to do, "So I would go and put on my socks and shoes if I were you, as quickly as possible."

* * *

**Nobody's POV**

They both climbed into Clint's black Mercedes Benz. After they left the city limits, they started to travel down a long, straight highway that was flanked by trees. There seemed to be very little cars, only a couple of semi-trucks, RVs and minivans occasionally passed them.

"So, Uncle Clint, what did you have to do for work?" Jack asked with an innocent tone and smile. He tried to make it seem as if he was just trying to start a conversation during the boring car drive.

_Yeesh, he sure is trying to get information rather quick this time, isn't he?_ "Just the usual. I had to travel a little ways to find someone they had recently done business with. After I found him, I just gave him a push towards the right direction for his type of work." Clint replied casually, as if his secret job was of no real importance.

_Darn it, that doesn't sound like a big deal. Well, at least he gave me some openings for more questions. I might be able to found out something about his job this time!_

"Well, where did you travel?" The boy asked with a hint of excitement in the back of his voice.

_Hmmp. So you think you can get something worthwhile out of me with that question, my little nephew? You are mistaken. _

"Boston."

"Boston?" Jack repeated the word with saddened surprise.

"Yes Jack, Boston. What, did you expect someplace else?" The man looked over at the down-cast boy, who was now looking out the car window with his shoulders slumped.

When he asked the question, Jack's head jerked up and met his gaze, but quickly drifted to his hands in his lap.

"Not really, I was just thinking that it might be somewhere more exciting." He said after a slight hesitation.

"Ahh, I see." Was the simple response. Clint was a little relieved that Jack hadn't questioned _which _Boston it was.

After that short conversation ended, the car fell back into a comfortable silence. Only the occasional cough or yawn broke it.

A couple of sharp turns later (Clint purposely did them a little too sharply to try to make the boy laugh, which of course worked) the car ended up driving down a narrow dirt road that was surrounded by pine trees.

After a few minutes of cruising down the road, it opened up into a clearing. There was a large parking lot that was made out of trampled grass that was almost completely full.

Jack was about to look around the area, when all of a sudden a hand shot up into his field of vision, then covered his face.

He gave a strangled yelp from the shock of it. "Hey! Uncle Clint-

"Remember, it's a surprise my little nephew. Now stop scrambling around so I can drive."

Jack obediently stopped moving. Even though he was a little disappointed that he couldn't see, it made the surprise five times better to him with the suspense and all.

The car slowed to a stop and Clint removed his hand from Jack's face. "Alright, let's go."

Jack nearly fell because he got out of the car so quickly. He went to his uncle's side and held his hand. When he saw what was in front of him, he gasped. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, so he rubbed his eyes with his own free hand. Even though nothing changed, he was still thinking that the sight before him couldn't possibly be real.

"Well, come on. Let's not just stand here staring at it." Clint said as a pulled Jack along towards the castle.

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**Oh the suspense! Whose castle is it? Why is there a parking lot? Find out in the next chapter! (If I can figure out what to put in it). **


	3. Chapter 3 Bonding

**Here is chapter 3! Remember from the end of the last chapter, there was a 'castle.' Well, now you will be able to see (Or rather, read) what that castle is. So, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or Avengers. It would be mayhem if I did. **

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Jack was dragged along by his hand towards the castle. It really was quite a sight; the castle was probably at least 100 ft high! It was made out of round, grey stones that were as big as he was. There was a tower on top of each of the four corners. Each one had a deep purple flag on the top.

The entrance was a _huge_ archway that looked like it was supposed to have a drawbridge. When they made their way under the massive doorway, Jack had to arch his head all the way back just to see it.

When they entered, there was a small, bright yellow booth to the side. Clint let go of the boy's hand then strode over to the booth. On the way, he pulled out two slips of paper from his back pocket.

Jack tagged along behind him, not wanting to leave the man's side. As he got closer, he saw the person who was inside of the booth. And when he did, he wanted to just outright laugh.

The man looked to be in his early 40's. He was a little pot-bellied and his nose and ears were gigantic. But that wasn't the part that Jack wanted to laugh at, no it was the fact that the man was dressed like a medieval clown.

He wore an orange and green striped shirt-thingy with matching pants and a green hat that had five floppy spikes coming out of it. At the end of each spike was a little bell that jingled with the slightest movement.

He didn't want to be impolite though, so he kept the laughter to himself as he stopped at the front of the booth alongside Uncle Clint.

"Tickets please," the jester said in a drawling voice. Clint could tell that the man was quite unaffected considering his situation; he must have been doing it for a while and was familiar with all the looks he got.

"Here you are sir." Clint handed over the tickets to the man and started to make his way towards the carnival. He quickly glanced behind to make sure the kid was with him.

Jack once again hurried to keep up with his uncle and looked up at him with a huge smile plastered onto his face. This had to be one of the best days in his life.

Clint looked down and snickered at the look his nephew was giving him. _Well, mission accomplished. The kid looks like he's about to explode with happiness._

He always loved that moment when Jack had a smile on his face. Sometimes the ninja-like archer would go to the apartment to checkup on him without the boy knowing about it. Every time he looked through one of the windows, he would see a depressingly haunted face.

He would make sure during every one of his visits (the ones that Jack knew about) that there was only happiness in his features.

"So Jack, today is all yours. Pick whatever you want to do, no one's gonna hold you back."

When Jack heard those words, he got a very weird feeling inside. _Me? Do whatever I want to?_ The very idea was too much for him. He just stopped with a shocked expression removing that wonderful smile on his face, mouth agape.

Clint halted when he noticed that Jack had stopped. He looked at him and saw the expression. _Oops, I think I broke him by saying that. I've got to remember to take things slow when it comes down to letting him make decisions. _

He reached over and grabbed Jack's shoulder, then looked down at him calmly.

"How about we get something to eat first, ay?" Clint said in a reassuring tone.

"Y-yeah, that sou-sounds good," Jack said, getting over the shock with the idea that someone else was in control once again.

They went towards the left side of the fair, where all of the food booths and stalls were located. As they made their way closer, a mass of smells greeted their noses.

Jack inhaled deeply. His mouth started to water and his stomach growled like a starved beast. The only food he was used to was PB + J sandwiches and sometimes, if he was lucky, a slice of old pizza.

They ended up getting turkey legs, foot-long corndogs, bread roles and a bottle of root beer each (emphasize on the _root_, not normal beer). They brought their spoils over to a nearby picnic-table.

"Thanks a bunch Uncle Clint, it looks amazing!" Jack said with his eyes on the food. He wanted to dig right in, but he knew he still had to use manners and thank him.

Luckily for him, Clint got the hint. "Yeah well, it's not like I cooked it. Now just hurry up and start eating already."

And that they did. There was no conversation, just the sounds of 'mmmms' and 'ahhhhs' coming from the happy diners.

After they finished and drank the rest of their _root _beer, they stood up with some groans of protest.

"That, was delicious." Jack commented. It had been a long time since he had felt full before. Then a burp escaped his lips.

His face turned red with embarrassment. "_S'cuse me."_

Clint couldn't hear the apology; it wasn't because Jack had said it so quietly. It was because he couldn't catch it over the sound of his own chuckles.

"Hmp, hmp, hmp." He put his hand to his mouth to try to contain it. He regained control over himself when he saw that Jack was starting to cringe from being laughed at.

"S-sorry Jack, I couldn't help it." He put his arm across Jack's shoulders and pulled him up against his side. "Let us go and see what there is to do."

The boy looked up at him when he heard that statement. The way Clint had said it sounded so weird. "Alright, let us go then!" Jack said with a laugh and that huge smile lit up his face once again.

_Awe man, Thor's dorky language is starting to get to me. _

They went towards all the different forms of entertainment, Clint's arm still on Jack's shoulders.

"Hey Uncle Clint, what's that?" Jack pointed towards a circular wooden building that had no roof.

"Let's go and see." They went towards the entrance and ended up in a crowded stadium. There were bleachers that were also made out of wood lining the whole inside of the building.

The area in the middle was nothing but dirt. There was a long, elevated pole that cut through almost the entire middle of the arena.

The pair found some seats near the bottom where they would be able to see whatever the show was.

A man entered through a door to their left. From what Jack could make out, he wore a dark purple tunic with brown tights. He had on a hat that was a purple just a shade lighter than his long shirt. It had a white feather coming out of its top.

"WELCOME ALL TO TODAY'S PERFORMANCE!" He yelled into the microphone that was attached to his face. The sound of his voice echoed throughout the stadium.

"BEFORE THE JOUSTING TOURNAMENT BEGINS, I HAVE A LITTLE SHOW THAT I AM GOING TO DO FOR YOU!"

"Jousting? We're going to watch a real jousting match?!" Jack said enthusiastically, all the scenes from the movies playing in his head.

"Only if you want to," Clint replied nonchalantly.

"Yes, yes yes! Can we stay and watch pleeasssssee?!" He was now nearly bouncing up and down on the seat.

Clint _really_ didn't want to gain attention from the people around them because of the over-excited boy, so he tried to calm him down.

"Alright, alright, of course. Just stop bouncing or else you might fall off the seat."

"Thanks Uncle Clint!" Jack launched his arms towards the man and hugged him around the middle.

After hesitating slightly, Clint wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him back. He didn't know it, but the women behind them were having a fit because of all the cuteness they were witnessing.

After a couple of seconds, Clint released him. "Let's get back to the show huh?"

"Yes!" Jack whipped his head towards the direction of the man.

"LET'S BEGIN!" There was a simultaneous chorus of clapping and cheers from the audience when they heard that it was going to finally start. Unlike Clint and Jack who managed to get there just in time for it, they had all been waiting impatiently for almost an hour now.

All of a sudden, a weird noise was heard in the distance by most of the people. Then it came again, but this time more pronounced. It drew all the heads skyward to see what it belonged to.

Then, everyone could hear the distinct sound of a "CAWWW!" After that the owner of the sound flew directly above them. A brown streak began to dive towards the man in the center in the arena. There were gasps heard from the spectators.

In a split second, the streak stopped. Jack could just manage to see that it was because of what looked like wings being spread open. It was then that everyone was able to see what the creature was. It turned out to be a large, brown bird that was now slowly spiraling downwards towards the man, who now had his right arm out-stretched.

"Wowww. Uncle Clint, what kind of bird is that?" Jack asked, his eyes following the bird's movements.

"Hmm, from the looks of it, that's a hawk. And I have to say, hawks are probably one of the most ferocious yet handsome animals that have ever existed." Clint said matter of-factly.

Jack glanced over at him when he heard that, but then his attention was once again drawn to the hawk. "Uncle Clint, are you just saying that because the people at your job call you 'Hawkeye?"

The archer scoffed. "Of course not, they really are. Just look at you, your eyes haven't left it from the moment you saw it."

"Touché." was the only reply.

The hawk then landed on the make shift perch that was the man's arm. "THIS IS A RED-TAILED HAWK. THEY ARE USED IN DIFFERENT LANDS FOR A SPORT CALLED FALCONRY. FALCONRY IS WHEN A HUNTER WILL USE A TYPE OF BIRD, SUCH AS A HAWK OR FALCON, TO RETRIEVE OR CATCH PREY."

The falconer seemed to just ramble on about all these different facts about falconry, how they train the birds, and other types of birds that they use for it.

Jack started to just tune him out, his focus completely drawn to the hawk. On closer inspection, he saw that it wasn't just all one color. Its wings, head, and back were all brown. But its chest and legs were a white-ish color that had speckles of brown mixed in. And, true to its name, its tail had a reddish hue to it.

What really drew Jack's curiosity were its eyes. They were constantly looking around. It was as if they saw something, took in every detail from it, and then moved on somewhere else.

On a couple of occasions, it seemed to have looked right at him. The eyes were a piercing tan-brown color that made him think it was looking right through him.

But before he knew it, the man started to walk towards where he had entered, the hawk in tow.

"Hey, what happened?" Jack asked sadly, watching the bird until it disappeared from view behind the door.

"Weren't you paying attention? The jousting is going to start now."

"Oh. Already?"

"What do you mean already? That guy was telling every single little thing about that falconry twice for almost an hour now!" Clint said, annoyed because he already knew everything the man had said. Why should he have to sit and listen to someone just repeat what he already knew?

"Well, it sure was cool seeing the hawk though, right?" Jack said in an attempt to raise his uncle's spirits.

Clint saw what he was doing, and felt guilty. He had brought his nephew here to try to cheer _him_ up because of all the things he had to go through everyday. The boy shouldn't have to be using the limited time they have together to try to make him feel good.

"Yeah, it was really cool."

"Good!" Jack gave himself a mental pat on the back for being able to make someone happy.

They heard the sounds of trumpets that seemed to come from every direction around them. Then shortly after, two horses came out from opposite sides of each other, with a fully armored knight on their back. They both held shields and were grasping long, cone shaped swords that they had pointed directly ahead of themselves.

They got into position, each one at an end of the long pole in the middle of the arena. Either one went on opposite sides of it, their horses pawing the ground in anticipation.

Then, a trumpet note was heard again. As soon as it reached the knights' ears, they charged forward, their lances drawn, each aiming for the chest of a knight.

Jack could hardly hold still in his seat. For a moment, all he could make out was the blurred figures quickly approaching each other. And then, after a sickening sound of a weapon hitting flesh, Jack saw the sprawling body of one of the knights suspended in the air, before a catapulted towards the ground and landed with a loud "BANG!"

The horse that he had been sitting on a second ago just stopped and stood where it was, nosing the ground for anything to eat. The victor of the two knights began to make rounds in front of the crowd, his lance held up into the sky in victory.

Everyone cheered and applauded for the champion, even some whistles were heard. Jack of course was whooping loudly because of the fact he had just experienced a real joust.

When the crowd settled down, a couple more jousts took place, each one with different knights and horses. As each one passed, they began to get a little more boring.

Clint yawned after seeing the seventh knight in a row get tossed off his horse. People were starting to depart, ready for new excitement.

He looked beside him to see Jack with his head propped up on his hand, looking intently at the next pair of knights.

"Hey Jack, what are looking at?" Clint couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Jack had noticed.

"Hmm? Oh, I was just studying how they are moving and what their doing wrong that makes them get hit." The boy replied, boredom obvious in his voice.

"Really? Well, I'm glad to see that you're finally using your observation skills for something." Clint began to tap his foot, looking around for something to do.

"Say, Jack, do you want to go somewhere else now?" This was met with a more lively expression.

"Yes please. It gets a little boring watching people get thrown into the air like dolls after a while." Jack said with some distaste. It seemed a _little_ better watching jousting in movies, where there isn't a replay of the same thing.

"I know what you mean." Clint replied, half his mind on the thought of how much more fun it is being the one to hit someone into the air than just watching it.

They both got up and retreated towards the exit.

The rest of the fair quickly got their attention. They went into little stores that sold clothing like jerkins and cloaks. They played games like toss the rings, hit the bottles (Which Clint won with a perfect score) and dunk for apples. Jack just wanted to do that one because it was starting to get hot out and the idea of being able to stick your head into a thing of water with a chance of winning something seemed too good to pass up.

And win things they did. They had enough stuffed animals to make a daycare full of toddlers satisfied. The stuffed animal that Jack definitely liked the most was a plush horse that was all black, except for a splash of white on its rump. It had deep brown eyes, just like hawk. It was also _super_ soft.

So after a full day of playing games, eating greasy food and lugging around plushies, they headed for the car.

As soon as he climbed in, Jack collapsed on the back seat in the midst of all the animals.

Clint got out of the front seat and went to the open side-door. He straightened Jack up into his seat and buckled him in. The boy absent-mindedly clutched onto Clint's arm with a whimper, before it closed the door.

Clint sighed. He started to look around for something to replace his arm in the kid's grasp. The appaloosa plushy caught his eye and he grabbed it. He then yanked free his arm and pushed the horse against Jack's chest, making him snuggle on to it instead.

Clint shut the door and went back to his position at the wheel. He drove the car out of the clearing and back on to the highway. He adjusted the rear-view mirror so he could see the slumbering form of his nephew.

_I sure am glad that he took all of that medieval stuff so well, because soon he's probably going to be constantly surrounded by it._

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**Well wasn't that a surprise! Who would've thought it would end up just being a medieval festival. And guess what, another cliffhanger! Well sort of, I think. **


	4. Chapter 4 Repeat

**Hello! I am so sorry for taking so long to post this, time just flew by me because of school (Stinking EOI's). Anyway, guess what, guess what, GUESS WHAT?! I've finally received a review! I'm going to EXPLODE from all the excitement! (Thank you MySistersSister). Please give me a sec while I try to calm down *Takes deep breathes.* Thank you, now proceed with the story.**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Ranger's Apprentice or Avengers. **

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Jack woke up in his bed. He looked around, disoriented. The last thing he remembered was collapsing in Uncle Clint's car…

_I'm back. Clint probably dropped me off and then left. He's probably not going to be back for a couple of months. _Jack thought glumly to himself.

All of a sudden, he noticed that he was holding something. He saw the black appaloosa plushy that he was unconsciously hugging to his chest. He held it up and stared into its deep, amber eyes. At least now, he would have a friend to keep him company during his existence.

When he thought about it, his new friend deserved a name. Jack was never good when it came to names, most likely due to the fact that the only one he heard was his being shouted at him.

_I'll figure out one for you later, _he said to the horse in his mind, making himself believe that it completely understood him.

He snuggled up to it and pulled up his blanket to keep both of them warm, there seemed to be a chill coming into his room.

He was tempted to just lie there in bed with the creature, but quickly decided against it. That _man _wouldn't like him to just sleep away, especially because he had to smell the rotting odor of the leftover's from his dinner last night. He never did the dishes anymore; it was the boy's job.

He got out from under the covers and stretched in a cat-like manner across it. Then Jack made the bed, which was really just straightening his pillow and blanket. He laid his new room-mate on the bed and started to head for the door.

He proceeded to the living room and his nose picked up a smell that was _very_ different from the ones from yesterday. He pinched his nose between two fingers and went into the small kitchen.

He cautiously made his way towards the sink. He was greeted by a sight that made him sick. There were a couple of plates in it that looked like they had some kind of green fungus growing on top of them.

_Rrrrright, I never did the dishes last night. Woopsie._

He looked away from the moss invaded dishes and opened a drawer. Inside were about a dozen thread bare rags and towels. He took three of them out and went back towards the sink, his nose still plugged. He spread one of them on the counter next to the sink and placed another right beside it.

He slowly took his hand away from his nose, already feeling nauseous. He turned on the hot water. He poured some dish soap onto the last rag that he was still holding and quickly dived into the chore of cleaning the dishes, before he was able to make a smart retreat.

About an hour and a half later, Jack dried the last dish and put it in its cupboard. He looked over at the empty sink, thinking that it was a job well done.

A door creaked open to his left, and he watched as _he _stumbled out of the bedroom. His sand-colored hair was all over the place and stubble was on his jaw. His hazel eyes dazedly looked at Jack, who was standing motionless, watching him.

After the man's mind finally registered who was looking at him, his arm shot up and he pointed directly at the wide-eyed boy. "YOU!" His language was slurred from both drowsiness and drinking.

Jack had tensed up from the quick motion of the man's arm. When he heard that word, he slowly pointed to himself and mouthed _'me?'_

"Y-yesss, y-you. You d-didn't do the dishes-es last night, i-it reeked in here." He was swaying on his feet, his eyes still directed at the boy.

"W-well, I-I did them now, there a-all clean and I p-put them away. S-see?" He pointed to the empty sink.

The man's eyes followed Jack's finger and looked at the sink. "F-fine, now leave me a-alone." After that was said, he made his way towards the couch, walking in a fashion that reminded Jack of a zombie.

The man collapsed onto the couch, causing it to give under his weight. He stuffed his head in-between on the arms and the back. One of his arms was over the side, his hand grazing the ground. The same was the case for the leg that was on that side.

After a few seconds, deep, rumbling snores were heard from the mass. Jack finally relaxed, giving a sigh of relief. He survived, but it was probably only because the man was half asleep.

He began to do his other chores which were: the laundry, garbage, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning both bedrooms and finally, emptying the fridge of everything that looked like it had been taken over by an alien species.

Slowly he trudged towards the recliner and quietly curled up into a ball on it. He kept half an eye on the man, making sure that he was still asleep.

His eyelids slowly drooped close, but he tried to will them to stay open. It was to no avail, they only closed quicker the next time. It was a loosing battle. So what if he fell asleep? _He _looked like he would be knocked out for at least another hour.

Jack yawned, and surrendered to the comforting darkness. That is, until there was a knock at the door. He stiffly got up and tried to make his way to it quickly. He _really_ didn't want his father to wake up.

He didn't even look through the peephole, too depressed that he couldn't have a nap. He opened the door and looked out with half-closed eyes. Well, they were until he saw who it was.

"Uncle Clint?" Jack said. He thought to himself that he must have fallen asleep and was just dreaming of his uncle's next visit.

"Hey kid, did you miss me?" Clint said as he stepped in.

"Uhhhh, I'm dreaming, right?"

"What are you talking about, are you alright?" He knelt down and anxiously looked Jack in the eyes.

"Yeah, I'm definitely dreaming." Man, this was the best dream Jack ever had. They never seemed this life-like before.

"Jack, you are not dreaming. I'm right here. If you want, I can hug you to prove it," Clint said as he stood up and opened his arms, a twisted smile on his face.

_Okay, not dreaming, not dreaming._ Jack took a step back, putting his hands protectively in front of himself. His back was feeling sore from just thinking about another one of Clint's hugs. That pretty much proved that he was in fact, not dreaming.

And then after reaching this conclusion, Jack was shocked. "Wait a minute, why are you here then? You just visited yesterday. Did you forget something?"

Jack was thrilled that he was seeing his uncle two days in a row, but it was probably due to something other than him.

After hearing his nephew, Clint knew the path that Jack was thinking on.

"Jack, I'm here to see you." The man said comfortingly.

The boy couldn't believe what he was hearing, someone wanting to see him _again?_ Even though they had already spent time with him the day before?

"W-why?" Jack replied, shocked.

"Because Jack, I'm going to take you somewhere where you'll be safe." Clint pulled Jack into a hug, this one a lot more comforting and a lot less suffocating.

Jack looked at Clint like he was crazy. He hadn't ever stayed somewhere else before, he hadn't even been to Uncle Clint's house. Then the idea came to him that his uncle's house might be the place he was going to be taken too.

"Where? Are we going to your house?" Jack said, excitement rising in his voice.

For some unknown reason, Clint gave a chuckle at this. "No, no, it's just a _little_ farther than that."

"What do you mean?" Jack was now very curious, but also a little resistant at the idea of leaving and going to a place he hadn't ever heard about.

Of course he wanted to leave this place, even a cardboard box in an alley sounded better to him in some ways. But at the same time, he sort of didn't. He had lived here his entire life, it was all he knew. To just leave it all?

Clint noticed the hint of resistance, and tried to quickly reassure the boy. "There's a friend of mine who's agreed to take care of you Jack. He's nice and he lives in a cabin. And if I recall, it's right beside a forest."

That sparked Jack's interest and extinguished the resistance. If he was a friend of his Uncle Clint, than he must be pretty amazing. And the idea of a cabin next to a forest sounded spectacular, it would be just like living in that medieval festival.

"Really? When do we leave? How do we get there? Are we going to take your car or-

"Hold on, just give me a minute." Clint put up a hand to stop the onslaught of questions. He reached into his pocket and produced a small, metal object. It had a red knob near the bottom and a screen taking up most of the remainder of the space. It reminded Jack of Clint's i-phone.

"_This_ is what we're going to use to get there." Clint replied, that glint was in his eye once again.

* * *

**Man, I really need to work on my ability to make longer chapters, that was just puny. Anyway, I've got a question to all of those people who are reading this: what should Jack's plush's name be? Keep in mind, he is a boy, so nothing to, well, girly. Please tell me! I've got no imagination, just like him, when it comes to names.**


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